


Dancing Feet

by fresne



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Disabled Character of Color, Explicit Language, Female-Centric, Gen, Handicapable, Just Dancing, No Plot, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4838366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fresne/pseuds/fresne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They said that Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in heels. </p>
<p>Gazelle had it all over that b***h.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Feet

**Author's Note:**

> What came of writing a story with Gazelle dancing and thinking about the Ginger Roger's quote. This sort of just happened.
> 
> Don't really want to look up who said the line about Ginger, but please consider them attributed.

Sometimes, Gazelle'd put on knee high boots. Go Go the fuck up. Because the last thing Gazelle needed when she was going dancing was fucking morons asking where her legs were. Attached to her knees, fucker. Attached to her swaying hips, moron. Attached to her fine dancing ass that they couldn't touch. 

Holding up her arms and swaying with the music.

Lana Del Rey was singing that her pussy tasted like Cherry Cola. 

Gazelle wouldn't lie. She'd like to find out. But this fucking minute, she just wanted to dance. Wanted to move to the music in a hot sweaty club where the bodies were too close and the floor stuck under her boots. Where the base was so deep it made her heart hurt and her ears would be ringing when she left. Watch the patterns the glow in the dark paint on her fingernails made as she moved her arms. The paint did things other than glow. But for now, Gazelle was just dancing. Just feeling the music in her bones and muscles, and skin drenched in sweat and moving.

Some fucking moron was talking to her. He was asking her to dance. He was offering her a drink. He was asking her if she spoke English because she been ignoring him. She grinned because she was the tiger and he was the goat for her to eat if she wanted. 

Which she didn't. 

Gazelle didn't eat goat.

She spun on boot point. It was just another angle of balance. Gazelle could run up that pretentious red curtained wall and escape to the balcony if she wanted. But why would the tiger need to escape the goat? She sped up her dancing steps. She crossed. She passoed and she dobled. She did a couple of fencing lunges when the crowd parted for her. 

He couldn't keep up. Tech money boy with his white buttoned shirt identical to all the other techy boys in the club.

Gazelle grinned and went back to feeling the music from her fingers to the point of her hidden feet.


End file.
